


A Union of Lands and Hearts

by ImOutOfMyVulcanMind (LoopyLu94)



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-05 02:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11568066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoopyLu94/pseuds/ImOutOfMyVulcanMind
Summary: After the War of the Ring is over, Eomer seeks to bring peace between Rohan and Dunland. To do that he arranges to marry the daughter of a Dunlending Chief. This is their story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter isn't explicit, but there will be sex later on so I thought it best to rate it now. 
> 
> This is my first foray into The Lord of the Rings fanfiction, so any (constructive) criticism would be welcome!

You looked up at the golden halls of Meduseld as you galloped up to it. It was nothing like your clans village, but you had to admit that it held it’s own strange sort of beauty. You slowed your horse down, along with the rest of your party, and came to a stop next to your father. **  
**

“Your new home.” He said, looking at you briefly before looking up at the hall too.

This will never be my home you thought, jumping off your horse in a swift, sure motion. Your hand landed on the hilt of your blade, while you used your other hand to hold the reins of your steed. Already you could feel the stares of the villagers bore into your skin, and hushed whispers of ‘traitors’ and ‘murderers’ reached your ears. You turned to ask your father if he was certain of the plan, but you were stopped by approaching guards.

One stepped away from the rest, and bowed respectfully before you father. “Greetings, my lord. Éomer King bids you welcome to Edoras!”

You father huffed. “I believed that your King would be here to greet us himself. Does he think so little of this treaty?”

The guard, for a moment, looked panicked, but quickly schooled his face back to neutrality. “Not at all, my lord! The King had every intention of greeting you, but this morning we learned of a group of brigands to the north, and so he has taken men to deal with them.”

Your father remained stony faced, his eyes narrowed on the guard. You knew it was just to make the guard squirm, that your father would be as impressed as you were that the King had gone out to fight instead of staying behind. “A leader that leads. I am impressed.” Your father said eventually, and you had to resist the urge to laugh at the look of relief on the guards face.

“Thank you, my lord. The King has given his word that he will have returned by this evening, and will be joining your welcome feast. Now, if you wish, I will show you to your rooms so you can rest.”

Your father nodded his assent, and reluctantly you handed over the reins of your horse, and followed the Rohirrim guards. Your room was situated near Meduseld. Close enough that you could get to the hall in a short amount of time, but still far away enough to give you, your father, and the members of your clan who’d travelled with you, privacy.

You took your time examining the room. It was vastly different to what you were used to, but it was not uncomfortable. You thanked the servants when they arrived with the items you’d brought, but you were answered only by odd looks at the tattoos covering your skin. For the second time in an hour you questioned whether this treaty of peace would hold.

Your people and these Northmen had long been at odds with each other. They lived in lands that had once been your own; lands given by people who had no right to do so. There had been war and bloodshed, and even now you held no love for the Horse Lords. But too much blood had been spilled, and with the war now over, it seemed the King of these lands thought so too. He had sent a messenger to your father, requesting a pact of peace be made between your two lands, preferably by marriage so that the lands would forever be united by blood. After much thought, your father had agreed. There were no royal women free to marry in Rohan, and even if there were, your father was unwilling to spare your brother. So the choice had fallen unto you. It was not your ideal situation, but there had been enough death on both sides, and you had a duty to do what was right for your people, so you had agreed without hesitation.

Now you were here, preparing to meet the King, your soon to be husband for the first time. You did not expect to get along with him, but you hoped that your differences weren’t so many that you were unable to tolerate each other.

You heard commotion outside, and reached your window just in time to see a group of riders come galloping into the courtyard below. Their banner still flew proudly, green and gold and shining in the sinking sun, just like the blood on their spears did. The leader, the King, you figured, broke free from the group, and trotted over to a guard. You watched as the two men conversed, the guard motioning towards your building. The King looked, and although you were tempted to duck out of view, you remained where you were. Your eyes caught briefly, the King giving a quick nod of his head, which you returned, before he looked away again.

You remained in your spot, watching as the King turned and rode off towards the stable with his men. You found yourself wishing that he’d removed his helmet. The distance would have prevented you from taking in his features fully, but you would have still seen more than you had with his helmet obscuring most of his face.

Reluctantly, you turned from the window and finished changing from your travelling clothes to your dinner clothes. The fur lining your outfit was soft against your skin, and you nodded at your reflection in the small mirror the room housed. Attraction was not necessary for the wedding to take place, but you knew that the Horse Lord finding your appearance appealing would not do any harm either.

When you were sure you were ready, you left your room, and walked down to meet your father and the others. “I hear the Horse Lord and his men have returned.” Your father said upon seeing you.

“I watched them ride in. It appeared that they were successful in their pursuit.” You answered.

“Excellent.” Your father turned as a guard appeared in the doorway, bowing deeply.

“My lord, the feast is ready. If you would follow me, I will take you.”

“Very well.” Your father led the way out, you following close behind as the guard guided you up the many steps in front of Meduseld, and into the grand hall.

You looked around you as you entered, taking in the high ceilings, and the intricate tapestries that adorned the walls. It seemed they had gone through great lengths to create a welcoming atmosphere for you, but you refused to let yourself be fooled. You were led to a table already adorned with food and mead, and took a seat next to your father.

“The King will be here in a moment, my lord.” The guard told your father, ensuring the rest of your party was seated before retreating.

The guard spoke true, and soon after the doors to the hall opened again, and the King strode in. He was out of the armour you’d seen him in earlier, and now in robes that were simpler but still held a tone of regality. You and your party rose with your father as he approached.

“Chief Seisyll, I welcome you to Rohan, and to Edoras. I hope your journey was well?” The King asked as he joined the head of your table.

“Very. I trust your hunting party was successful?”

“Indeed. The brigands will no longer cause a threat to our people.”

“A swift and sure justice must always be brought down upon our enemies.” Your father said, stepping to one side so that you came into view. “Éomer King, my daughter, Y/N.”

“My lady, it is an honour to meet you.” The King stepped forward, and took your hand in his to press a chaste kiss to back of it. “Your room is sufficient for your needs, I hope?”

You were tempted to say that you were not a lady, not one by his standards anyway, but you held your tongue, partly through manners, and partly because the kiss to your hand caught you off guard. It took you a few moments longer than should have been necessary, but you finally found your tongue. “It is more than sufficient. I thank you for your generosity.”

“There is no need for thanks. You are an honoured guest, only the best will do.” The King retreated back, your eyes lingering for a few moments longer, and you were struck by the shades of green in his eyes that his robes brought out. “Come, let us break bread together!” He said, turning back to your father.

You all sat again, your father between the King and you. It was something you were glad of. It allowed you time to think while your father and the King spoke pleasantries of horses and crop growth. You had been taken by surprise by how his appearance had affected you. You had hoped that you would not find him ugly, but to actually find him attractive was unexpected. And judging by the way the King’s hand and eyes had stayed on you for a few seconds longer than needed, he did not find you unattractive either.

You took a long sip of your mead, letting the sweet but not too sweet taste of honey refresh you. An attraction to each other would certainly be helpful, especially on the night of your wedding. You glanced to your side, but your father was blocking your view of the King. Perhaps that was for the best. It stopped you from over thinking, and instead you focused on the members of your clan to your other side.

The feast passed quickly, and the hour was late by the time you were escorted back to your accommodation. The hour was even later when you silently slipped back out. Your bed had been comfy, and usually the fire would have held comfort, but after spending so much time around strangers in such a foreign land, you needed to breathe, cool, clear air if you ever hoped to sleep.

The night provided you with just that. It was crisp, the wind having enough bite to raise bumps on your flesh, but not enough to make you shiver. The moon was high, close to being full but still a few days short. And it was quiet. Most of Edoras slept, and the only lights you could see came from the watchtowers. It was perfect.

You wandered along silently, breathing deeply and mostly lost in your own thoughts. You heard the footsteps behind you, just before you heard the voice.

“Is all well?”

You turned, your hand automatically finding the hilt of the dagger on your hip, even though you felt no real threat. The King stood, not far away, watching you carefully. He looked concerned. “Everything is fine. I merely needed some fresh air.” You told him.

He nodded, walking forward until he stood next to you. “I have always preferred the night. The peaceful calm has always been comforting.” The King said, looking out into the distance.

“So have I.” You murmured, glancing over before looking out again too. “And if you know how, the silence helps you hunt your enemy.”  

“Or them hunt you.”

“Only if you’re lazy.” You retorted.

“Are you?” If his tone had been different you would have taken the words as an insult, but you knew better. The King was teasing.

“Never. I do not enjoy being prey. Or being seen as prey.”

The King turned so he was facing you. “I do not find that hard to believe. It is just as well that no one here sees you as that.”

You turned to meet his eyes again, and in the light of the moon you saw his expression change from one of mirth to one of far more seriousness. You raised an eyebrow in question.

“I must admit that I am pleased to have found you out here tonight. I wished to speak to you privately, and I was afraid that the time would not be found once your father and I start our trade negotiations tomorrow.” The King paused, but took your continued silence as permission to go on. “If all goes ahead, and the negotiations and peace treaty are agreed upon, you are fully consenting to our marriage?”

For the second time in one evening, the man in front of you had taken you by surprise. “You are the one who proposed this union…”

“I did. And I maintain that the joining of our lands is the best way to ensure peace, but at the same time I would not force you, or anyone, to be my wife.”

“Oh.” Three times now. He was starting to make a habit out of surprising you. “When my father told me of your proposition, I agreed without hesitation, I assure you. There was no pressure from my father or brother to agree. So yes, Éomer King, I am fully consenting to our marriage.”

The King looked relieved, and gave you one, deep nod to show he understood. “I am glad to hear it, my lady.” He smiled. Smiling suited him, you thought. “It is likely that all will go ahead, and if we are to be man and wife, I do not think we have need of formalities between us…Y/N.”

You smiled back. “That would no doubt be for the best…Éomer. For I think you will find that I am not a lady. Not one like your ladies in Rohan anyway.”

“I never held any belief that you would be. Our people are different in many ways, for me to expect you to act like a woman of Rohan now, or ever, would be foolish of me.”

You cocked your head to one side, studying Éomer’s face carefully. “Ever?” You inquired.

“I do not expect you to change. You are a woman of Dunland, Y/N. Now and always.” Éomer was serious, deadly so, as he spoke. You had been brought up not to trust the Rohirrim, not to take anything they say on just their word alone, but at the moment the feeling in your gut told you you could trust Éomer. On this at least.

You nodded your head. “I fear that venture would have failed anyway.”

Éomer laughed, the sound rich. “I do not doubt it.” He looked at you for a moment longer, then looked up at the dark sky before his gaze returned back to you. You half expected him to tell you to get some sleep. Instead, he bowed. “Perhaps I am not the creature of the night I thought I once was. I grow weary, and I am leading the dawn patrol. I take my leave…my lady.”

You caught the mischievous glint in Éomer’s eyes, and smiled again as you bowed in return. “Sleep well, Éomer King.”

Éomer turned and walked away, while you stood still, listening to the sound of his retreating footsteps. You remained where you were for a while, gazing out at the homes of the villagers, and pondering over the amount of times Éomer had taken you by surprise in one night, so unlike how you were taught the men of Rohan behaved.

It could be a ruse, an act held long enough until the parchment was signed. A tiny whisper of a voice in your heart told you that that wasn’t true. But your head new better. It would be foolish to let your guard down so soon, an almost guaranteed way to get yourself hurt. You would give Éomer a chance, but until you learned who the man behind the crown truly was, you would watch your own back. And your heart. You would not feel that pain again.

Slowly, you turned, looking up Meduseld one last time, before walking back to your room.


	2. Chapter 2

You did not see Éomer at all over the following days, and you barely saw your father. The two leaders spent most of their time discussing the trades that would begin once you and Éomer were wed. Your people were skilled in crafting furs that would keep a body warm even on the coldest nights, and you were capable of working leather so it was sturdy and long lasting. In exchange, the Horse-Lords were to provide your people with horses, and ranged weapons that would make your hunts easier. Rumours of the negotiations spread through Edoras, and on the rare occasion you stepped outside to wander the streets, you heard the disapproving whispers. The people did not trust you to not use their own weapons against them. **  
**

You, however, saw it as an act of trust on Éomer’s part.

As soon as your father returned to your residence on the evening five days after your arrival, you knew the deal had been done. He sat with you all as you supped, but did not speak of the King until after the meal was done. Even then, you spoke first. “Everything is arranged?”

Your father nodded. “It is. The King and I signed the documents with our marks before I returned here.”

“I am pleased to hear it.” You smiled. “And the wedding?”

“It will take place ten days from now, on the eve of the new moon.”

You nodded. “A new moon for new beginnings.”

“Indeed.” Your father rose from his seat, laying a hand on your shoulder. “You do a great thing for our people, my child.”

You smiled again, resting your hand over your fathers. “It is an honour to do so.”

Your father returned your smile, giving your shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze. “I will retire now. It has been a long few days.”

“Of course, goodnight, Father.” You released his hand, turning your head to watch him retreat to his room.

When you were left on your own, you sat quietly, watching the flames burn low in the fireplace as you lost yourself in your own thoughts. You were nervous, it would be a lie to say otherwise, but you were not scared. And it was an honour. To bring two lands together, to end so much hatred and suffering, made a marriage to a stranger worth it.

You stood with a stretch, grabbing a fur and wrapping it around your shoulders as you stepped into the cool night air. You walked to what you had come to consider as your spot, a place close to the edge of a ledge that looked out over the city. Yet as you approached, you saw another figure standing there, looking out.

“We must stop meeting like this.” You spoke loud enough for Éomer to hear, but not so loudly as to startle him.

The King turned, bowing slightly when he saw you. “It does appear that our only chances to speak are during the late watches.” He answered with a smile as you came to a stop next to him.

“It is appropriate then, that our union will take place after the sun has set.”

Éomer nodded. “It is. The night will be our time.”

You smiled. “Will your sister join be joining us?”

Éomer shook his head. “The journey from Ithilien is a long one, and she is still newly married herself.” Éomer turned to look at you. “Your brother? Brennus? Will he join us?”

“My father bid him to stay in our village. There are still clans that see us as an enemy, and he did not wish to leave our people with no leader.” You replied.

“That is a pity. I have heard a great deal about his skills with a blade, I would have liked to have met him.”

You chuckled softly. “Everything he knows, he learned from me.”

Éomer raised an eyebrow. “You are the eldest sibling?”

“I am. I am five years older than my brother, and ten years older than my sister.”

“She did not make the journey either?”

“No. She is barely out of childhood, and the roads are still not completely safe for one so young.”

Éomer nodded. “And your mother, if I may ask?”

“She passed when Blodwyn, my sister, was born. A complication that was beyond the aid of our healers.”

“I am sorry. I was but a child when I lost my parents also.”

You looked up at Éomer thoughtfully. “Perhaps we will find that our similarities outweigh our differences yet.”

“That is my hope.” Éomer turned back to look out over the homes of the townsfolk. “I wander out here most nights when the weather is fair; if you should wish to speak more between now and our wedding, privately and personally, I would be happy to do so also.”

“Thank you, I would like that.” You smiled. You moved to leave, but Éomer reached out to take hold of your arm in a gentle grip.

“Y/N…I do not know what the future will be like for us, but I wish you to know that I want you to be happy here. If there is ever anything you require to secure that happiness, tell me, and I will try my best to fulfill it.”

You met Éomer’s eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity in the fading moonlight. You nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

Éomer nodded in return, and released his hold on you. “Sleep well.”

“And you.” You replied, turning again and leaving Éomer by himself.

The days passed by quickly, and soon the morning of your wedding dawned bright and clear. The day was spent in preparation, and despite the misgivings many of the townsfolk held about your union, you still sensed a thrum of excitement running through the city.

It was early in the evening when you met with Éomer in front of Meduseld, standing high above the gathered people of Edoras. Your people stood to the left, while Éomer’s stood to the right, and you and he joined in the centre. His robes were a deep green hemmed with gold, that brought out his eyes. His hair, mostly loose and flowing, was tamed by two simple braids tied back from his temples. His head was crowned with a golden circlet. You were struck by his appearance, and you found yourself hoping that he was similarly struck by yours.

An elder, Deva, from your clan stepped forward first. Deva, as always, spoke softly but clearly as she blessed yours and Éomer’s union. She took your hands and pressed them together, looping a soft ribbon around them and tying it into a knot. Éomer smiled when she declared that you were now married in the eyes of your people.

Your own ritual had been familiar to you, so it was only when Aldred, an elder of Rohan stepped forth did your nerves reappear. The blessing bestowed upon you was similar to the first. You were wished a peaceful, happy, and fertile marriage, and then Éomer turned to one of his men. The two whispered briefly, and the other pressed something into Éomers hand. When the King turned back to you, he held out a key.

“A key to Meduseld, my lady.” He said softly, offering the key to you. “It is tradition amongst my people for a husband to present his new bride with a key to their home. A symbol of her governance within the household, and an oath from me to protect it.”

You took the key from him, feeling the weight of it settle in your palm. “Thank you.” You smiled, curling your fingers tightly around the metal.

Aldred stepped forth once more then, and announced to you and the assembled crowd, that you and Éomer were now wedded.

There was a hesitant cheer, but a cheer nonetheless, as Éomer stepped close to you. “They expect a kiss.” He told you in a whisper, hazel eyes meeting your own.

You nodded. “That is acceptable.”

Éomer smiled softly, and bent down just enough to be able to press his lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss, Éomer did not attempt to push any boundaries, but you found you enjoyed it anyway. His facial hair rubbed against your own skin, and it was only through force of will that you did not keen when he pulled back again. “Thank you, Y/N.” Éomer smiled again, kissing your cheek, before he faced his people.

“Citizens of Edoras, of Rohan, today marks a new beginning for us all. With this union, our fates shall ever be entwined with our new friends from Dunland. Both our lands were hurt beyond words and thought by both past grievances, and Saruman’s lies and treachery. But from this day forth, all animosity shall be put aside. We are now allies, and together we shall work to rid our lands of any remaining enemies that would do us harm.” Éomer was met with a reverent silence when he paused. You knew his words had had an effect on the people, and you hoped that this would be the end of all fighting. “But that is work for tomorrow; tonight we feast!”

A raucous cheer went up, and immediately movement started below you. A bard began to play, while other folk began to bring out food and mead. Éomer watched for a few moments, before offering you his arm. “Another feast has been prepared inside the hall.”

You took his arm with a nod, the two of you together leading the procession of nobles into Meduseld. A small part of you would have rathered stayed outside, and dance and drink under the night sky, but it appeared that went against tradition for the royals. The feast was grand however, even grander than the one that had been held upon your arrival.

A bard played within the hall also, and around you people drank and celebrated as you and Éomer watched from the head of the table. People came up to you on occasion, Lords of Rohan’s other cities, and presented the both of you with various gifts. Spears, arrows, armour were all given to Éomer, while you were gifted with fine cloaks, intricately crafted goblets and dishes, and jewellery. They were all beautiful, and you gave your thanks for each one, but none were items you were particularly fond of. You looked at a sleek bow Éomer had been given with envy. With a weapon such as that, there would be no beast you could not hunt.

There was not much time throughout the celebrations for you and Éomer to speak with one another, both your attentions almost continuously occupied with your guests, yet Éomer’s hand rarely strayed from your own. You were unsure of the gesture. It felt pleasant, you enjoyed the way his hand felt on yours, but you did not know if it was a gesture of affection or possession. Was he showing the world he cared for you, or that you were now his? The creeping intrusion of the latter thought left an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach, that vanquished any remaining desire you had to eat or drink.

The hour was late by the time the festivities finally quieted in the hall. The Lords returned to their accommodation as did your father and the others. Éomer kept your hand in his as you both rose, and gently, Éomer guided you out of the main hall.

“The bedchamber.” Éomer opened a door, only a few halls down, and stepped aside to admit you entry. It was bigger than your other room, though it was difficult to tell with how cluttered it was. Books, and scrolls, and maps lined shelves and walls, some even spilling over onto the table that sat in the centre. The bed was bigger too, with four grand wooden posts that supported a canopy over it.

Éomer stepped in behind you, and closed the door, locking it with a soft click. “There is one more gift I would like to give you. It is not a common gift for a husband to give his wife, but I believe it is something you would like more than finery.” Éomer walked to a chest of drawers, and opened the top one. You recognised the shape of a blade immediately, even though it was wrapped in a light cloth.

When Éomer presented you with it, you carefully took it from him. It was light, far lighter than the one you usually used. Gently, you peeled back the cloth. The sheath was plain for the most part, but as you held it up to the light, you saw the white head of a horse, an emblem of Rohan, and an emblem of your own clan, delicately carved onto it. The hilt was simple too, wrapped in a sturdy leather. Only the pommel bore decoration of a deep ruby stone. You gripped the hilt firmly, and drew out the rest of the blade. The blade was long and thin, and felt even lighter in your hand now, yet as the metal caught the candlelight, you could see just how sharp it was. You smiled. Light yet deadly was your favourite combination.

“Devona she is called. Protector.” Éomer came to stand behind you as you continued to examine the sword. “The very best my people are capable of making, and my gift to you, Y/N. You are my wife, and you will always have my protection, yet I wanted to ensure you could also protect yourself.”

“She is beautiful, thank you.” You sheathed your blade again, and set it carefully on the table before turning to face Éomer. “I could ask for no greater gift.”

Éomer bowed his head. “Perhaps we could spar sometime?”

“I would like that.” You smiled, taking a step closer to the King. “I believe that there is one final tradition of your people that we have not completed yet.”

Éomer looked away from you for a brief moment, before meeting your gaze again. “That is true, but I would not force you, Y/N.”

You took another step closer, placing a hand on Éomer’s chest. “When I committed to this marriage, I committed to it all. You are not forcing me to do anything, Éomer.”

You watched as Éomer swallowed thickly, but then nodded. “If you are certain, then we should undress.”

“That would be wise.” You turned away from Éomer as you carefully began to remove your clothes. Behind you, you heard Éomer do the same. You heart thundered in your chest, yet you didn’t feel nervous. You knew what you were doing, and you assumed that Éomer did too, and you had been honest when you’d told him that you did not feel forced into it. Could it be excitement you were feeling? You dismissed it. It was too soon to be feeling those sort of things for a man who was still mostly a stranger to you. It must be nerves you were feeling, there was nothing else it could be.

You were fully naked when you turned back to face the King, and you noted with something akin to satisfaction that he was already noticeably interested. It also appeared that every part of him was proportionate to his tall height. He was handsome indeed. Scarred, but toned, with the same dirty blonde hair covering his chest in tight curls that were thick, but didn’t appear unbearably so.

As you studied Éomer, so did he study you, and as he moved towards you, you could feel his eyes roam every inch of your body. A strong arm wrapped around your waist as Éomer backed you towards the bed, lowering you down onto the soft covers with surprising gentleness.

You consummated your wedding that night. It was awkward, you were both still too uncertain of each other for it to not be, but Éomer was tender. There was barely any touching, and nothing more than the briefest of kisses at the end, but Éomer ensured that you were comfortable, that he was not hurting you. It was all over quickly, something you were unsure whether to be happy about or not.

Éomer wrapped the covers around you both before he fell into slumber, and although you were still wary and uncertain of the man you had married, when you fell asleep too, you slept contentedly.


End file.
